


Fairy Tales

by Gypsymoon77



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Family, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-03-15 09:17:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3441749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gypsymoon77/pseuds/Gypsymoon77
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is beginning to realize that everything he thought was real is a lie.  And the more he discovers, the more certain he becomes that he will lose everything he loves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fairy Tales

**Author's Note:**

> I shouldn't be allowed to write while I have a cold. You have been warned.

He wasn't going to be able to stop this from happening. Castiel stared wide-eyed at the scene in front of him. Dean was only a few feet away, down on hands and knees, his face bloody and bruised. Sam was in front of them, kneeling before the witch Rowena.

“ _Witch?”_ the confused thought flickered through Cas' mind. _“Was this some sort of fairy tale?”_

A part of his mind screamed at him to understand, but he felt disoriented. Cas tried to stand but he staggered. Something was terribly wrong here.

Rowena reached out, cupping Sam's face in her hands. She cooed at him in her lilting Scottish accent.

“Don't worry, lad. I'll make it all better. I'm helping you really. You'll be free from this life like you always wanted to be.”

Cas could hear Dean screaming a flood of expletives, all the dark promises of what he was going to her once he got his hands on her. Castiel lurched forward, his hands reaching for the two brothers, but it was too late. Rowena completed her spell.

Then the alarm clock went off.

Cas Novak jerked awake. He blindly reached out in his dark bedroom, groping for the offensive clock. He pounded on it three times before it finally shut off. With a huff, he flopped backward onto his pillow. He lay there listening to his small household coming to life. The sound of Claire's bedroom door open, and then the teenager shuffling down the hall to the bathroom. He could hear Dean downstairs starting breakfast, the clanking of cutlery and smack of pans chasing off any chance that Cas would maybe drift back off.

He pulled himself from the bed. Groggily, he snatched up his bathrobe and slipped it on. The tantalizing scent of fresh brewed coffee lured him into the kitchen of the farmhouse.

“You didn't sleep well,” came the matter-of-fact comment in lieu of a more traditional morning greeting.

Cas leaned against the door frame and studied his boyfriend for a moment. Dean looked up at him, his hazel eyes inquisitive.

“What?” he asked in his gruff manner.

Cas smiled a little. “Just watching you,” he replied.

Dean rolled his eyes and went back to mixing the pancake batter. “Having those nightmares again?” he asked over his shoulder.

“Mm,” grunted Cas, non-noncommittally. He shuffled over to Dean, wrapping his arms around his waist and burying his face in the nape of his neck. He watched as Dean poured out perfect circles of batter into the skillet. They stood like that in silence for a moment.

“So, were you an angel again this time?” Dean trying a lighter approach to the topic as he flipped the pancakes.

“I'm always an angel in those dreams,” muttered Cas, feeling embarrassed. He felt self-conscious when he spoke of these dreams. How self-important could you be to dream you were a cosmic entity?

“And I was the sexy, irresistible hunter?” continued Dean, glancing over his shoulder and waggling his eyebrows at Cas. He moved the pancakes over to a waiting plate and then turned in Cas' arms so that they were chest to chest. “You know, that sounds kind of fun. Maybe you and I could role-play some time...”

“Ew, gross,” came a voice from the doorway. “I think I just threw up in my mouth.”

“Good morning, Claire,” answered Dean drily, frowning over at the teenager. He reached back and picked up the plate of pancakes and passed them to her as she slunk past on her way to the table.

“Use kind words, Claire,” reminded Cas, stepping back from Dean and putting a more appropriate distance between him and his lover.

“Thank you, Dean,” answered the teenager snidely, sticking her tongue out at the end of her sentence.

“You're welcome, Claire,” replied Dean, his jaw twitching in a visible effort not to reply in kind. He turned back to preparing the rest of the breakfast.

The three of them fell into their normal morning routine: Dean and Claire bickering over breakfast ,Cas drinking more coffee than was healthy for one man, the banter and small talk over the day's plans and activities. It had been this way for almost six years. Dean and Cas had met at a support group shortly after Cas' wife had left him. Cas had needed a place to stay and Dean had needed a roommate to help keep up the house he had inherited from his Uncle Bobby. Somewhere along the way they had become a family.

Cas watched Claire and Dean as they did a mock sword battle with their syrup-drenched butter knives. He smiled but in the back of his mind, his nightmare played over and over again.

_You'll be free from this life like you always wanted to be_ the witch had promised.

Cas had a terrible feeling that this happiness wouldn't last much longer.

 


End file.
